<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Close As Air by RK_Anon (Rochelle_Templer)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719460">Close As Air</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/RK_Anon'>RK_Anon (Rochelle_Templer)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Inspired by fan art, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just in time for valentine's day, pure romantic fluff here folks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:02:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/RK_Anon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ha, you know I’m a demon.”<br/>“And demons can’t love.”</p><p>The words haunted Aziraphale from the moment they left Crowley's lips. But could there be any truth in them? Or was the truth just too close for Aziraphale to see?</p><p>Inspired by a wonderful fan comic by wheeloffortune-design on Tumblr</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Close As Air</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ok, so as mentioned in the summery, this was inspired by a fan comic I saw in Tumblr, the link being here:</p><p>https://wheeloffortune-design.tumblr.com/post/189098723615/sometimes-youre-just-too-close-to-see-the-big</p><p>Basically, Aziraphale can see love manifested as tiny hearts floating about. When he can't see Crowley's love anywhere, Crowley scoffs and tells him demons can't love. But what neither of them see is that Crowley's heart is so large, it covers the area all around them.</p><p>So how would Aziraphale discover this for himself...?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Ha, you know I’m a demon.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And demons can’t love.”</em>
</p><p>For the past week, those words had echoed in Aziraphale’s mind, haunting him. Tonight, sitting in the bookshop alone and trying to enjoy a cup of cocoa, he found that they made his heart ache as well.</p><p>Up to that moment, their day had been so lovely. They had had a scrumptious lunch and the sun had cast golden rays which melded with the pink-red glow of the hearts of love Aziraphale could see all over the park. At one point, Crowley had commented on the beauty of the scene around them, but Aziraphale was heartsick from the awareness that Crowley only experienced part of its loveliness.</p><p>After their walk, Crowley invited him to his flat to share a bottle of wine. Or two. As they drank, their conversation meandered from a serious discussion of Shakespeare’s sonnets to the overly dramatic preparations on a baking show that they sometimes watched together on television.</p><p>However, once Aziraphale had gone back to the bookshop, once he was alone again and could focus on what Crowley had said, Aziraphale realized that he could think of little else. A problem that persisted over the next few days.</p><p>
  <em>“…I’m a demon.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…demons can’t love.”</em>
</p><p>Only a few months ago, Aziraphale had allowed himself to entertain the very same idea. Crowley’s words were almost a perfect match for ones that Gabriel had told him repeatedly. Relentlessly. It was a central pillar in the foundation of how Heaven perceived the Fallen. Demons had willingly turned from God’s love. And if they could reject such perfect love, they must not be able to accept any love at all.</p><p>Conclusion: demons couldn’t and didn’t love. This was why they were in opposition to Heaven.</p><p>Aziraphale sighed. He would never tell anyone this, especially not Crowley, but it was that core belief that had made him begin to question Heaven’s ideology. Mainly because of the logical fallacy at its center. If demons were the opposition to angels, they must have some inkling of what love is. Because how could they be an enemy to something that existed outside their awareness?</p><p>Besides, the true opposite of love was not hate. It was complete indifference, the total lack of interest or care. Love and hate, on the other hand, were forever tangled with one merely being the misguided, misdirected energy of the other.</p><p>No, demons must know something of love. Logic dictated that it must be so. And even if logic could not reveal this truth, the numerous demonstrations of Crowley’s capacity to love made it irrefutable.</p><p>Aziraphale leaned back in his chair, wrapping his fingers around his mug. It would be easy to dwell on all the little (and not so little) kindnesses that Crowley had shown him throughout their existence. But Aziraphale was convinced that that was selling Crowley short.</p><p>Crowley’s love had been revealed when there were children hidden on the Ark. And when he had tempted several families out of Pompeii for business just before Vesuvius exploded. And when, just a few years ago, Crowley had tempted a bridge operator to go off on a smoke break during his shift and create a traffic jam that prevented any cars from crossing the bridge…just minutes before the bridge collapsed.</p><p>Whatever perception Aziraphale chose to consider Crowley’s actions under, as one of Heaven’s Fallen angels or as Hell’s demonic servant, Crowley had proven time and time again that he could act out of love.</p><p>Which brought Aziraphale back to the distressing question of why he couldn’t perceive Crowley’s love. Shouldn’t an angel be able to sense such a steadfast fount of love?</p><p>
  <em>“…you pathetic excuse for an angel!”</em>
</p><p>Oh…yes. There was that possibility. That it wasn’t Crowley’s deficits, but his own instead. That he was stunted in his ability to sense love. It could be another facet of why he never fit in within Heaven’s culture.</p><p>Except….</p><p>Aziraphale frowned. He had always been able to sense love (and the lack thereof) from humans and even animals. Their mortality did not lessen the impression their love made on his senses in the slightest. He also still had memories of basking in Her vast, all-encompassing love in Heaven. It had been a force like…like….</p><p>Aziraphale’s brow crinkled as he looked down at the mug in his hands. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it before, but there was something there, something written into the molecules of the ceramic that he recognized. Then he looked up and saw it again. It was sparkles coming from a set of books on one of his shelves.</p><p>Aziraphale’s heart trembled as he expanded his awareness by opening the angelic eyes of his mind, enabling him to see far beyond the confines of the room he was in. He could see more of those shimmers on a bench in St. James’ Park. They were also surrounding their favorite table at the Ritz. There was even a burst of light around the bookshop.</p><p>It was then that Aziraphale finally understood the truth that had eluded him. Normally, when he saw love in little glowing hearts, it was focused in a narrow field of space. But Crowley’s love could not be confined to such a small area. It was woven into the fabric of the space all around Aziraphale. It was revealed within the smallest details, like the chocolate scented curl of steam coming from every perfect mug of cocoa that Crowley had made for him or in the pages of the numerous books Crowley had collected for him as gifts.</p><p>He hadn’t sensed Crowley’s love for the same reason he hadn’t always been aware of the air around his corporeal form. Both of them were so integral to his existence that they had become invisible.</p><p>Aziraphale sat his mug down and put his face in his hands. How could he have been so blind?</p><p>And more importantly, how could he ever make it up to Crowley?</p><hr/><p>Two days later, Crowley walked into the bookshop with a hesitant frown on his face.</p><p>That morning, Aziraphale had called him up and asked him to stop by the bookshop for some wine and a “wonderful surprise.” The angel wasn’t known for plotting surprises which instantly made Crowley suspicious of what Aziraphale had in mind.</p><p>“Ah Crowley, I’m glad you’re here.”</p><p>Crowley walked in and pulled the door shut behind him. Aziraphale was beaming at him, his eyes lit up with delight, leaving absolutely no doubt that the angel was indeed thrilled to see him.</p><p>It was a look that made Crowley melt inside.</p><p>“Um, hi angel,” he mumbled. “Did you…did you want to get dinner first or…?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s smile grew as he drew closer, and Crowley hoped that the angel didn’t hear the loud swallow forcing itself down his throat.</p><p>“That does sound wonderful, my dear, but there is something I must discuss with you first.”</p><p>Aziraphale paused, his hands fidgeting with the edges of his waistcoat. Crowley knew it for what it was: a nervous gesture. The sort of thing Aziraphale did when he was trying to deal with some overwhelming emotion or thought.</p><p>The angel finally took a deep breath and continued. “Do you remember our walk in the park the other day? When I mentioned that I see love as little hearts glowing?”</p><p>“Um, yeah,” Crowley said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He had hoped that Aziraphale had forgotten about that conversation, but wasn’t surprised that that hadn’t happened. Demons rarely got what they wanted. And Aziraphale never would let go of the things Crowley really wished he would.</p><p>Aziraphale took another step toward him. “Do you also remember how I couldn’t find your love? How I…I couldn’t see it?”</p><p>Crowley nodded, his heart dropping. He still remembered the sad look on Aziraphale’s face at that realization, a sadness that was soul deep. He had tried to deflect with one of Aziraphale’s old tactics, reminding him of the differences between angels and demons.</p><p>
  <em>“And demons can’t love.”</em>
</p><p>It was a lie, of course, and the words had tasted bitter on his tongue, but it was the only thing Crowley could think of to do at the time. What else could he say? That demons could love and Aziraphale was too blind to see it? Add to the list of mistakes that Aziraphale was chastised for on a regular basis? No, Heaven had done that to Aziraphale for millennia. Crowley refused to be a part of it.</p><p>Even if it meant denying the love that burned hotter than the Hellfire in his veins.</p><p>Aziraphale was now only inches away from him, and Crowley could feel the warmth radiating from the angel’s body. The angel reached up toward his glasses, and Crowley nodded in understanding as he took them off and put them in his pocket.</p><p>“It took me so long to understand,” Aziraphale added. “But now I realize that not seeing something doesn’t mean it wasn’t there the whole time.”</p><p>Crowley’s breath caught. His mind scrambled for some joke, some distraction from this conversation, but his mouth was frozen, dumbfounded.</p><p>“May I show you something?” Aziraphale asked, his voice a soft murmur.</p><p>“Sure,” Crowley managed to gasp out.</p><p>Aziraphale nodded and reached his hands up to press his fingers against Crowley’s temples. Then the angel closed his eyes.</p><p>All at once, Crowley’s vision shifted and blurred before changing into a way of seeing he had never experienced before. There were new colors that Crowley had never perceived, and a soft glow pressing in through the windows of the shop.</p><p>“Angel…what…what is this?”</p><p>“You’re seeing through my eyes now, Crowley,” Aziraphale replied. “Now…look closer.”</p><p>Crowley blinked and suddenly he saw himself. It was like standing in front of a full length mirror. Except for one crucial difference: the hearts. There were dozens of them, tiny and glowing, all over his body. They covered his hands, his feet, and encircled his limbs and torso. There were even hearts floating above his head and scattered at the edges of where he was standing. The hearts surrounded him like a blanket, like a shield.</p><p>“Angel,” he breathed, struggling to control his own quaking heart. “Is this, is this supposed to be my love?”</p><p>Although he couldn’t see him, Crowley could feel the smile, sweet and adoring, Aziraphale must have had on his face.</p><p>“No, my dearest. It is mine.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>